This is what goes through my head when I notice a typo in the worship music lyrics at church:
“Oh no, oh no, oh no! Look away, look away. Finding a typo in a song at church is like staring at the sun.
Once you see it, it can’t be unseen. Don’t look. Pretend that Hosanna is spelled with two s’s. Hossanna. That makes perfect sense: two n’s and two s’s. They’re friends. They go on adventures in wardrobes.
But they don’t, do they? Deep down, I know they don’t. “Hossanna.” What is that? It sounds like the pet name for two redneck celebrities who are dating. “Hoss Roberts and Anna White, or as you might know them, ‘Hossanna.’”
That’s terrible.
Hoss. That’s a cowboy’s name. If your parents name you Hoss, then you don’t get to be an accountant when you grow up. At the hospital, they look at a birth certificate, see your name “Hoss,” and hand you a pair of Wranglers. No, not Wranglers: Those are for the gentleman cowboy. They give you Rustlers, Wranglers cousin who might be cooking meth.
Should I tell someone about that typo?
They’ve got two other services. I could spare a lot of people from having a Hoss Attack. That was so awful.
What would Jesus do?
Probably make a whip out of the little bracelets they give you with your kid’s Sunday School number on them. He’d storm the soundbooth and kick over the soundboard.
“How dare you mix the temple with powerpoint!”
That’s what Jesus would do, definitely. Do I have enough time to make a whip? You know what? I don’t. I really don’t.
“Let’s finish this song already Hoss.”
That’s what I think when I notice a typo in a worship song. Have you ever seen one?
